Like a true McPoyle.

Remember the deputy's line, something to the effect of "If there's any mercy, those men're already dead."

Douchebag brother-in-law, if I heard correctly - which I think is maybe why Liam McPoyle hasn't ditched him entirely.

Her screaming "OH MY FUCKING GOD" (or whatever it was she screamed when the other host got knifed) was fucking hilarious.

When I'm very very very sad, I listen to LN's "Dirt Floor Hotel," a double album of ghostly folk/dreampop - for fans of Leonard Cohen, Low, Nick Drake, Red House Painters, David Lynch, etc.

Are you kidding? That's the most honest/relatable they've ever been.

Yeah, but like BORN-human human? Or what-the-robots-are-becoming human?

(•_•)

… everyone has a blind spot…!!!

Dude, you need to burn that duster.

It's a definite "chills" moment in context - she spends the first 23 minutes of the record just hectoring you with this combination of wild anger and defiance, twisted come-ons, acidic self-hatred, caustic put-downs, etc., basically constructing this caricature of a man-eater that you end up reacting to in an almost…

You and every other cocksucker…

Maybe he's a random element designed to challenge the hosts' AI in order to get them to evolve.

Ugh, there are some decent tracks here, but the whole fucking record is just produced and mixed fucking wrong.

Bossanova's just a goddamn beautiful record.

Whaddaya mean, the "subtext" of "The Nightman Cometh"?

Fair enough - similarly, I've always felt faintly queasy about Bob Pollard killing the equivalent of a keg a night and everyone just going "Woooo!"

I mean, it's named after a Joy Division tune. What did you expect?

Thank God the Majors will finally get paid! There is still some justice in this world!

I prefer "A Blaffair to Rememblack."